


reach out and rise again

by ravenreyamidala



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Endgame Polyamory, Happy Ending, Incest Between Adopted Siblings, Infidelity, Loosely based off of Hamilton, M/M, Male Lactation, Manipulative Bitty, Mpreg, Multi, Sibling Incest, Soap Opera
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-11-24 15:15:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20909732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravenreyamidala/pseuds/ravenreyamidala
Summary: Kent Zimmermann sees Eric Bittle first. He knows this like he knows the colour of Jack’s eyes (the most perfect blue in existence), like the sound of his mother’s voice.(alternatively: A Hamilton AU wherein Kent is Angelica, Bitty is Alexander, and Jack is Eliza.)





	reach out and rise again

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thatsclassicsbaby](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatsclassicsbaby/gifts), [stevie_RST](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stevie_RST/gifts).

> First: please please please please read the tags. 
> 
> I was listening to Satisfied, and I started thinking about how things would play out if Hamilton had cheated with Angelica instead of Maria Reynolds, and then I started thinking about Check Please, and then this happened, oops. 
> 
> Major, major, major thanks for floral_docs and ambroseidon for the cheer reads! And as always, for the Parse Posi Posse. I love y'all.

Kent Zimmermann sees Eric Bittle first. He knows this like he knows the colour of Jack’s eyes (the most perfect blue in existence), like the sound of his mother’s voice. They lock gazes at the same moment, and Kent swears he feels their hearts beat in tandem for a perfect two, maybe three beats. He doesn’t remember gliding across the room, but he remembers the press of Eric’s lips on the back of his hand, the way Eric’s gaze appraises him quickly before Eric’s pupils dilate, the feeling of his own teeth coyly digging into his painted bottom lip. 

“You are the most interesting person I’ve seen all evening,” Eric greets, holding Kent’s hand a beat too long before pulling away. 

“I don’t know if I should be flattered or insulted on behalf of all the lovely people here tonight,” Kent snips back, keeping his smile almost perfectly pleasant. 

Too perfect, and Kent knows he comes off as a jerk. A tilt of his head to the left, the barest hint of teeth, little inconsistencies that keep him from competing with his brother. He catches sight of Jack for a scant moment before the crowd swallows him up again, and Kent’s mask falters for just a brief second, but it’s enough for Eric to catch. 

“Whoever has you reacting like that has got to be interesting, you’re right,” Eric muses but doesn’t move his eyes from Kent’s face. 

Kent finds himself blushing under the intensity of Eric’s gaze, unused to being the center of attention. Eric reaches up and brushes the back of his fingers against Kent’s warm cheek. 

“You strike me as someone who has never been satisfied,” Eric purrs, a secret held between the two of them. 

“You’re awfully presumptive for someone I’ve just met,” Kent retorts, but doesn’t move away from Eric’s barely-there touch. 

“You’re like me,” Eric says raptly, looking up at Kent like he’s the most wonderful thing Eric’s ever seen, and Kent feels the warmth from the compliment all over his body. “I’m never satisfied.” 

“Is that right?” Kent murmurs, fighting the temptation to put his mouth around the thumb that’s a little too close to his lips for polite company. 

“I’ve never been satisfied,” Eric continues, voice deepening. 

Someone bumps into Kent, and Eric’s hand drops. Suddenly, Kent remembers where he is, and how he’s supposed to behave. 

“My name is Kent Zimmermann,” Kent introduces, noticing how Eric doesn’t react to his last name. 

“Eric Bittle,” Eric says, eyes still on Kent. 

“Where’s your family from?” Kent asks, since he hasn’t heard of any prominent Bittles. 

“Unimportant, but I know you’ll be hearing my name soon enough,” Eric brags. 

“I don’t intend to visit a brothel anytime soon,” Kent says so blithely that it takes Eric, with his razor-sharp wit, a second to realize the joke. 

Kent would savor the bark of laughter from his would-be suitor, but the crowd parts, and he catches sight of Jack again. Jack, his brother, his best friend, the one person in the world Kent loves more than anything else. Jack, sweet and trusting and kind. Jack, moon-eyed over Eric Bittle, who knew Kent’s name before he introduced himself. Eric Bittle, who has a touch like velvet and a smile like a shark’s. Kent knows this like he knows his own mind: Eric Bittle will never be satisfied, and Kent has spent his whole life not being enough. 

So he introduces Eric to Jack, and keeps a perfectly pleasant smile plastered on his face through the rest of the party and then the wedding and the subsequent reception and the best man’s speech that he gives. 

And he hopes, despite everything he knows, despite the fact that he sized Eric up in those two, maybe three minutes, despite knowing exactly who Eric is because he can recognize himself in another person, that Jack will be happy as Eric’s husband. 

* * *

The Zimmermann family took Kent in after he was abandoned as a newborn. Alicia had just delivered her third stillborn child and was still lactating, and there was a concern that Kent would perish before a wet nurse could be arranged. So Kent was fostered by Robert and Alicia Zimmermann, who decided they wanted to adopt the baby when the orphanage finally got around to processing Kent’s paperwork. 

It was a bit of a surprise when Alicia became pregnant a scant few months after Kent’s arrival, and even more wonderful when the baby was born in the August of the year after Kent’s birth, quiet to be sure, but breathing quite heartily. 

Kent can’t remember a time when he didn’t love Jack, can’t remember a time without the Zimmermann family, can’t remember a time he was ignorant of how he isn’t a true Zimmermann, not really. Even Alicia is taller than he is, and his hair is blonder than anyone in the Zimmermann lineage, going back ten generations. But the Zimmermanns always treated him and Jack exactly the same, and Kent has always been grateful for that. 

So he is feeling rather guilty, lying on his back, staring up at the face of his brother’s husband as Eric gently but mercilessly fucks into him. And then Eric starts talking, and Kent feels both guiltier and more aroused. He closes his eyes. 

“I’ve seen the way you look at my husband, my dearest brother-in-law,” Eric breathes into Kent’s ear, before nipping at his earlobe, which in turn makes Kent gasp. 

So this isn’t necessarily the first time Kent’s been in this bed or even in this position, although Eric usually prefers to ride Kent’s dick. 

“I know that’s why you’re closing your eyes, mon frere,” Eric murmurs, before savagely worrying Kent’s nipples with his sharp teeth. 

“You’re thinking about your brother, hmm?” Eric purrs, pushing into Kent so slowly, his girth pushing incessantly against Kent’s slick, clenching walls. “Thinking about him fucking you in this bed, in our marriage bed, instead of me.” 

Kent just moans, reaching for his achingly hard dick, but Eric just grabs both his wrists and pins them above Kent’s head. 

“It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me,” Eric continues, leaning down to ravage Kent’s mouth, all teeth and fierce tongue, pushing into Kent’s slack, open mouth with all the cruelty usually reserved for Kent’s ass. 

“I already know,” Eric says smugly. “This is how he fucks me, you know? All sweet and slow and lovely.” 

Eric punctuates that last word with a long drag of his dick against Kent’s prostate, but it’s the words that have Kent tipping over the edge, coming all over his chest and Eric’s, and then Eric’s filling him up. 

And there’s the moment Kent was waiting for, when Eric is almost sated and a little sleepy. He always snuggles into Kent a bit, and kisses Kent so sweetly it makes his teeth ache. Then Eric falls asleep, and Kent’s left to stare up at the ceiling for a bit. 

The guilt is still there, but it’s dampened by the earth-shaking orgasms. Kent’s helpless to resist the siren call of their mutual satisfaction. 

* * *

“Mon frere, it is so good to see you!” Jack greets, pulling Kent into a hug. 

Kent is hyperware of every bit of skin that’s touching Jack’s skin, but he sinks into the embrace anyway, knowing that he’s flirting with danger but not caring. 

Jack pulls back first, like always, but he drops a kiss onto the crown of Kent’s head, which is unusual. 

At least, that’s what Kent thinks Jack is doing until Jack opens his mouth. 

“You smell like Bits,” Jack says, his beautiful face scrunching up in confusion. 

Kent opens his mouth and finds himself at a loss for words, a situation so rare it would have him gaping like a fish if Eric didn’t choose that moment to swoop in with an answer to Jack’s unspoken question. 

“Last time he was here, he said he liked the soap in our bathroom, so I sent him some for his birthday,” Eric says smoothly, before putting his hands on Jack’s waist, just under his shirt, and leaning up for a kiss that Jack’s already bending down to give him. 

“I missed you,” Jack murmurs into the space between their lips after Eric pulls away, and Kent has to avert his eyes. 

“It’s only been two minutes, sweetpea,” Eric laughs, before leaning in for another kiss. 

“Still in the honeymoon phase, I see,” Kent snarks, maneuvering around them to get into the dining room. 

Eric breaks away from the embrace to stick his tongue out at Kent, who valiantly holds back a blush as he remembers precisely what Eric was doing with that appendage only a few hours ago, while Jack was at work. 

“You’re just jealous because you’re single,” Eric teases, keeping his gaze on Kent a beat too long before turning back to Jack, who looks at Eric with all the tenderness of the softest cotton. 

“When are you going to find someone like Eric?” Jack wonders, draping an arm around Eric’s shoulders as they walk to the dining table. 

_I have _, Kent thinks, and it’s only Eric’s warning look that has him realizing he said that out loud. 

“Oh really? Why is this the first I’m hearing of him?” Jack wonders, raising an eyebrow as if to say _ Gotcha _. 

_I’m fucking your husband_, Kent thinks, but doesn’t say, taking a sip of water from his glass on the already-set table. 

“Ah, a fling then,” Jack deduces, before turning to Eric to explain. “Kent’s had a lot of flings, it drives Maman and Papa absolutely mad, but in the end, as long as Kent is happy, it is fine.” 

“And because you argue my case so well,” Kent adds. 

“And because I argue Kent’s case so well, this is true,” Jack agrees. 

“I married such a talented barrister,” Eric sighs, putting his hand on top of Jack’s where it rests on the table. “How did I get so lucky?” 

“I think I should be the one asking myself that question,” Jack says, before turning to Kent. “Did Eric tell you about his latest accomplishment?” 

Kent readies himself for another dinner full of Jack gushing about how talented and intelligent Eric is, but Eric strokes Jack’s hand once, and Jack immediately quiets. 

“Actually, I have some news I wanted to share with you Jack, and since Kent’s here, I might as well tell him too, since I know you will tell him as soon as possible anyway,” Eric says. 

“News, what’s this?” Jack asks, looking intently at Eric. 

“I’m pregnant!” Eric blurts out, the smile on his face bright enough to light a thousand candles. 

His announcement is followed by a silence thick enough to use as a comforter. Jack pales so suddenly that Kent is worried about Jack fainting, but then he notices Jack’s tight fist and white knuckles. 

“How is this possible?” Jack wonders, and Eric still hasn’t realized something is wrong, this is immediately clear to Kent. 

“Well, when a man loves another man very much,” Eric starts, before the penny finally drops, and he trails off, staring at Jack’s hands. 

“I had chickenpox as a teenager,” Jack says tightly, and it has Kent remembering those awful weeks where the doctor could only shrug her shoulders, how the clothes hung off their mother’s body, the new gray in their father’s hair. 

But Jack survived, with only one side effect and hardly any scars, and they had all made an effort to go to church more often for about a year after that sickness. 

“I’m sterile,” Jack says, but he isn’t finished. “And I’ve told you this before.” 

Kent feels all the air rush out of his lungs in a moment, and can see the same panic in Eric’s face. 

“Don’t follow me,” Jack spits at Eric, before pushing his chair back roughly and standing up in one abrupt movement, striding out of the room. 

Kent doesn’t even bother to look between Eric’s face and Jack’s rapidly retreating back before he’s grabbing his jacket. 

* * *

Kent has barely gotten his key out of the lock and closed the door behind them before Jack’s crowding him against the door, kissing him so fiercely that Kent feels his knees wobble. Jack’s hands are on his face, he’s _kissing _Jack, and it’s all Kent has ever wanted, but not like this. 

So for the first time ever, Kent pulls away first. 

“Jack, no, we can’t do this right now, you’re not thinking straight,” Kent protests, but Jack’s clearly picking up on how Kent’s protests lack any real heat, because he leans in for another kiss, raking his big, soft hands through Kent’s hair. 

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” Jack gasps out before diving back in to suck bruises down the curve of Kent’s neck. 

Kent’s short enough that Jack has to bend his knees, and after a second of doing so, Jack makes an annoyed noise before grabbing Kent by the waist and pulling him up until the angle is better for Jack. All Kent can do is wrap his legs around Jack’s waist and tug at his black locks when Jack hits a particularly sensitive spot. 

“You smell just like him,” Jack murmurs against Kent’s pulse point, before kissing Kent again. 

Kent pushes into the kiss, giving it everything he’s got, just in case it’s the last one. Jack pulls away first, taking a moment to soak in Kent’s face. 

“God, you look positively debauched,” Jack says, pushing impossibly closer to Kent. “You usually look so perfect, I’ve wanted to be the one to wreck you for so long.” 

There are a thousand other things Kent should say right now, a thousand different things he should do. He’s the older brother. Jack is his responsibility. 

Instead, he says, “Wreck me, Jack.”

He doesn’t add _I’m_ _yours_, opting to instead desperately kiss Jack, who attempts to melt into Kent’s body before getting frustrated at the clothes still separating them. 

“Bedroom,” Kent manages to gasp out. 

Later, when Jack is snoring next to him, and Kent’s staring at the ceiling, he smiles, before turning over onto his side so the last thing he sees before he closes his face is Jack’s relaxed face. 

* * *

Kent isn’t surprised when Eric knocks on his door at six the next morning. He spares another glance at Jack’s perfect face before getting out of bed, barely bothering to put on his pants before answering the door. He remembers how hard it was to get Jack out of bed in the mornings; he’s confident that Jack will be in bed for at least another four hours. 

“So he’s here, then,” Eric sneers, taking in Kent’s appearance and the love-marks littering his body. 

Kent lifts his chin and crosses his arms. 

“What do you want, Eric?” Kent asks, pointedly not inviting Eric over the threshold. 

Eric pushes past Kent anyway, and Kent lets him, because he can still remember how the candle light illuminated the hunger-shadows of Eric’s face the first time they met, can still remember how the most handsome man in the room would have chosen Kent first, over his beautiful, sweet, perfect brother. They settle in the kitchen, and Kent makes himself a cup of tea, while Eric watches.

“Do you really think that this story has a happy ending?” Eric ponders, and Kent can see the smirk that accompanies the cruel words without turning around. 

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” Kent replies, turning around with his tea, leaning against the counter. 

Eric’s seated at the table, and despite the depth of the bags under his eyes, his hair is perfectly coiffed, eyes bright and predatory. Kent doesn’t shift as he remembers the number of times he woke up to that exact same face. 

“You know that the child I’m carrying is yours,” Eric says bluntly. “The child of my husband’s brother, who he fucked after he found out about my indiscretions.” 

Kent feels ice-water through his veins, but doesn’t shudder as he takes a measured sip of his tea. Perfectly made, as always. He rolls the tea around his mouth for a moment before deliberately swallowing, smiling widely as Eric finally starts to look a little perturbed. 

“Who do you think he’s going to believe?” Kent says softly. “His brother, who has always put his happiness over everything else, or his husband, who is a cheating workaholic?” 

“You’re the one who fell into my bed,” Eric says hotly. “You want me, even now, you’re not any better than I am.” 

“I can be better for him,” Kent promises, sweet as saccharine. “You’ve proven that you can’t.” 

He sets his tea down on the counter as Eric steps up and crowds Kent. He lets Eric kiss him and even lets Eric decide when to end the kiss. 

Then he feels a pang of worry, as Eric’s eyes gleam with victory. 

“He’s been listening the entire time,” Eric whispers, a vicious mockery of a murmured endearment from a lover, and Kent can hear Jack’s soft breaths behind him now, the shift of his feet on the wooden floorboards before Jack’s running again. 

Kent knows better than to follow this time. 

“Why?” Kent says hollowly, locking his knees so he doesn’t slide onto the floor. 

“Because,” Eric answers, flashing his teeth. “He’s mine. I’m not going to let you take him away from me.” 

“You’re going to destroy us,” Kent realizes distantly. 

“Quite the opposite, dear Kent,” Eric promises, and Kent feels the weight of it in his breast. “You’ll see. It’ll all work out.” 

“Get out of my sight,” Kent demands. 

Eric is gone a second later, and Kent finally sinks to the floor. He waits for the sound of the front door closing, and for the sounds of footsteps past the kitchen window to pass, before dropping his head onto his knees and sobbing. 

* * *

Kent is entertaining guests for dinner when someone knocks on the door. One short, three long. 

“You’re back,” Kent says joyfully before the door is completely open, uncaring of the snow that billows in with Jack. 

Jack doesn’t say anything, and the reason for that becomes clear when he removes his heavy coat. The gentle rounding of his abdomen-- Kent sucks in a quick breath. 

“It’s probably yours,” Jack finally says flatly, moving towards the living room. 

Kent doesn’t look over his shoulder to see if his guests can hear-- he trusts their discretion enough to be comfortable focusing the entirety of his attention on his brother. His pregnant brother. He follows Jack and sits on the edge of the couch opposite Jack’s. 

“Are you keeping them?” Kent blurts out, before admonishing himself for his clumsiness. 

Jack levels him with a gaze so dry that Kent feels his resulting blush all the way in the tips of his ears. 

“I can’t be a single parent,” Jack says, and Kent’s heart sinks. 

“You’re going back to him,” Kent realizes. 

“I thought I should tell you first,” Jack explains calmly, and Kent hears the _You should have told me _that Jack is too good to say. 

He looks down for a moment and blinks back the tears that threaten to erupt from him, before looking back up at Jack and smiling, almost perfectly pleasant, not too perfect that he seems insincere. 

“I wish you all the happiness in the world,” Kent says, and he is proud of all the years of practice that means his voice doesn’t wobble, his smile doesn’t falter. 

“I know,” Jack sighs, before getting up. 

Kent doesn’t follow him, and Jack pauses at the threshold, turning back to look at Kent. 

“I love you, mon frere,” Jack says softly, before leaving. 

Kent takes a deep breath and barely waits for the front door to close before swooping into the dining room, smiling widely for his guests. 

“I apologize for that interruption,” Kent says smoothly. “Let’s continue our meal. Troy, you were telling me about your daughter.”

* * *

Kent reads about the birth of his first child in a letter from Jack, who continues to write Kent despite the lack of a reply. 

Kent is back in London, a world away from his whole world. He’s far enough away that he won’t be a threat to the new life Eric and Jack are building together. 

He smiles at strangers on the streets, and rolls around with some of them in their sheets. He is the toast of the town, and the months pass in a blur of parties, champagne flutes, and furtive suckjobs in the coatroom. 

Kent doesn’t expect happiness, but he has a routine, and that’s close enough. Kent has always excelled with a routine, with a strict set of rules that he can creatively interpret. Every two weeks, like clockwork, he gets a letter from Jack, and he falls into a married man’s bed. 

The two aren’t related. Kent just knows better than to seek a love that he can keep. Married men are safe. Even if one falls in love with Kent, the mere suggestion of his spouse’s reaction is enough to get Kent out of a sticky situation. 

And then one day, instead of a letter, Jack shows up on his doorstep, cradling a bundle wrapped in the blanket Kent had made and sent months before. 

“Where is your husband?” Kent says, keeping his eyes steady on Jack’s ear and not on those dangerous eyes or the tiny nose sticking out of the blankets. 

“He’s nearby,” Jack says warmly. “Can I come in? It’s almost time for the baby to feed, and your neighbors don’t deserve to be a captive audience to that particular symphony.” 

“I’m surprised you traveled so far with two children so young,” Kent says dumbly, leading Jack into the living room. 

His brother settles on the most comfortable couch without Kent’s direction, his uncanny sense for that sort of thing working even here in London. He casts a look around the room, before looking up at Kent. 

“It has been rather difficult, but they’re darling nonetheless,” Jack answers, before leaning down to kiss his child’s forehead. “Lend me your hands for a moment as I get situated?” 

Jack doesn’t wait for a reply before Kent is holding the baby. He’s charmed by the curl of their eyelashes, their sweet lips, their perfect nose, Jack’s in miniature. He’s snapped from his daze by the sound of a button against metal, and looks up to catch Jack unbuttoning his shirt. Jack catches his gaze and smiles, no doubt at the uncharacteristic shock on Kent’s face. 

“You know how babies are fed, Kent, this shouldn’t be a surprise,” Jack teases, reaching for the baby that Kent passes over carefully. 

Jack makes sure the baby is latched properly to his bare breast before looking up at Kent.

“Why are you here?” Kent asks, arms crossed. 

“Sit down,” Jack says gently, but Kent remains standing. 

Jack sighs. 

“My brother has always been so stubborn,” Jack tells the baby, who waves a fist. “I hope you don’t get that from him.” 

Kent can’t even breathe, never mind ask the question. 

“They both have your eyes,” Jack says, not unkindly. “And your smile.” 

“Is that why you’re here?” Kent wonders, permitting himself to look at the baby. 

“Sit next to me, mon frere,” Jack demands softly, patting the spot next to him. 

Kent sits, careful to leave space between them, but his efforts are dashed by Jack pulling him closer before settling his head on Kent’s shoulder. 

“I miss you,” Jack says. “Come back with us.” 

“What does your husband think of your plan?” Kent asks bluntly, sitting stiffly. 

“He misses you too, dearest brother,” Jack replies. 

“Then why isn’t he here?” Kent says pointedly. 

“Because you would throttle him,” Jack says, and Kent has to concede that point. “And because we all know you can’t say no to me.” 

“So I am to be their beloved uncle?” Kent says. 

Jack sighs, a quiet huff Kent can feel through the fabric of his shirt, before sitting up and moving the baby to his other breast. The silence stretches between them as Kent patiently waits for an answer. 

“We want you back in our lives, Kent,” Jack says finally. “Back in our house, back in our hearts, back in our bed.” 

“I won’t be the cause of your unhappiness again, Jack,” Kent says, mouth going dry, heart pounding. 

“I know,” Jack murmurs, pressing a kiss on Kent’s cheek that’s just slightly too close to his mouth. “I know because I refuse to be the cause of your discontent any longer, big brother. Come back with us. Come raise our children with us.” 

“Are you sure?” Kent asks again, bracing himself. 

“Come home, Kent.” 

**Author's Note:**

> for the low low price of a kudo or comment a read, you too can support your interweb based author and ensure they have the resources they need to produce more content! 
> 
> but also: please don't feel bad if you don't have the energy to leave a comment, we've all been there, and i'm just glad if I was able to share something that made you forget everything else, even if for a moment. 
> 
> have a great day y'all, and don't forget to hydrate.


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